


I have been where you are before (and I have felt the pain of losing who you are)

by tigriswolf



Series: comment_fic drabbles [252]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Incredible Hulk - All Media Types
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Aftermath of Violence, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bucky Barnes is so tragic, F/M, Gen, M/M, Mind Control Aftermath & Recovery, Past Abuse, Past Child Abuse, meeting up on the run and running together, names are important, you wouldn't like Bruce when he's pissed beyond reason
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-18
Updated: 2015-05-05
Packaged: 2018-03-23 14:33:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3771838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tigriswolf/pseuds/tigriswolf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He finds the guy in an abandoned shack in Cambodia, toting enough weapons it makes the Other Guy sit up and take notice, but they can both tell the guy’s barely alive. </p><p>[AU before Avengers]</p><p>[collection of drabbles with no overarching plot]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Title: I have been where you are before (and I have felt the pain of losing who you are)  
> Disclaimer: not my characters  
> Warnings: AU before Avengers; references, of course, to violence/abuse/torture, and also child abuse; possibly AUish for Bruce and the Hulk’s relationship? I dunno.  
> Pairings: past Betty/Bruce, possibly pre-Bruce/ex-Winter Soldier  
> Rating: PG  
> Wordcount: 1835  
> Point of view: third  
> Prompt: MCU, Bruce Banner (and Hulk) + or / any, the Hulk is not often calm enough to cuddle, but when he is, the cuddling is _epic_.
> 
> Note: I'm marking this complete at the moment, but I want to play more in this 'verse. 
> 
> Another note: So, this is a fic I've been craving but haven't found anywhere. I finally found a prompt that said, _Okay, enough waiting, just write the damned thing._ Thus, I did.

He finds the guy in an abandoned shack in Cambodia, toting enough weapons it makes the Other Guy sit up and take notice, but they can both tell the guy’s barely alive. “Shit,” Bruce says. The Other Guy fades back as Bruce begins assessing the stranger: he’s hurt too bad for Bruce to handle and the closest medical care is days away, but at the least the guy doesn’t have to be alone while he dies. 

.

The guy doesn’t die. In half a dozen languages (most of them, Bruce can muddle through), he calls for someone named Steve, apologizes so fervently it hurts Bruce’s heart, begs for mercy – but he doesn’t die. Bruce strips the armor from him, pausing for only a minute at the metal arm and the truly horrific scarring, bathes him, tries to pour broth down his throat, and the guy still doesn’t die. The multiple wounds on his abdomen should’ve killed him days ago, way before Bruce found him, but instead Bruce watches as they heal. He flushes the wounds as best he can, bathes the guy again, pours more broth down his throat, and the fourth day, the Other Guy alerts him that multiple armed someones are approaching. 

They’ve come to a little truce, him and the Other Guy. Anyone Bruce helps is off limits, no matter how mad the Other Guy is. Hospitals and schools, the Other Guy will not go near. Anyone who is obviously just defending themselves is to be left alone. 

Bruce peers out of the shack. He has no idea if whoever these people are after is him or the wounded stranger, but. Well. 

It doesn’t really matter, does it? 

.

Once it’s done and the survivors have fled, the Other Guy pulls back so that Bruce can stumble into the shack and collapse beside the stranger. He has no idea how long he sleeps, but he wakes up to the stranger looking at him with wide, wary eyes. 

“Hi,” he says in English because it’s still his default, despite everything. “You’re okay, then.” 

The stranger blinks. Bruce sits up slowly, stretching his arms, rolling his shoulders, arching his back. The Other Guy notes that all seems quiet. 

“We should probably find somewhere else to be,” Bruce says, still in English, “because whoever they were, they’ll probably be back with reinforcements.” 

“… they?” the stranger says, also in English. Well, that’s good, then. The guy’s voice is soft and hoarse when he’s conscious.

“They,” Bruce agrees. “The goons outside.” 

Everything in the stranger’s body tightens, so Bruce quickly continues with, “I took care of them, I promise. But more will come. So after I get dressed, can I look at your injuries again before we take off?” 

The stranger just stares at him. Bruce waits patiently. He wasn’t always patient but the Other Guy made learning it a priority. 

“Yes?” the stranger finally says. 

“Good,” Bruce says. He stands up slowly and pulls on his pants and shirt before crouching back beside the stranger. “I’m Bruce, by the way. What can I call you?” 

The stranger blinks at him again, holding rock-still as Bruce examines the flesh that’s knit itself back together without even a scar.

… so how’d he get those scars on the left side of his torso? Bruce quickly pulls himself away from that thought just in case. 

“You’re all healed up,” he says instead, ignoring that the guy still hasn’t given a name. “Now, you don’t have to come with me, but you should probably make yourself scarce. I don’t know if they were after you or me, but considering the condition I found you in, better to be safe than sorry.” He packs up his kit, offers the guy a granola bar (he doesn’t take it), checks in with the Other Guy (all clear), and then looks outside the shack. 

The bodies are still there. Haven’t even been touched by scavengers, but animals tend to avoid Bruce these days. It makes the Other Guy a little sad sometimes, but Bruce is grateful. 

“You… tended my wounds,” the guy says. When Bruce looks back at him, he’s on his feet, hands in plain view. Bruce hadn’t even heard him move. 

“Yeah,” Bruce replies. “Sure you don’t want food?” 

The guy looks bewildered. “You will let me go?” 

“Yeah,” Bruce repeats. “By the way, your clothes are in that corner.” He nods. 

The guy turns his head to follow. “I do not hurt,” he says softly, maybe so softly Bruce shouldn’t have heard it, but his senses have been better since the Other Guy. As the guy moves toward his clothes, Bruce looks back out into the trees, fists clenching. The Other Guy pipes up, but Bruce assures him he isn’t needed, now. 

Whoever this guy is, it’s entirely possibly he deserved the situation Bruce found him in. Bruce has no idea. Bruce watches out the corner of his eye as the guy pulls on bloodstained and torn clothing, then carefully skirts the wall to make his way to the entrance, where Bruce is still standing. The guy’s body language is – 

Bruce remembers moving like that, standing like that. He takes a deep breath, holds it, breathes out the anger. 

“I… do not want to go back,” the guy says. “They will keep – ” He bites off the words. Looks at the bodies on the grass. “You did that?” he asks, sounding impressed. 

“Kinda,” Bruce says. “Listen, if you don’t wanna go back, stay with me. I can protect you.” The guy glances at him for a moment before dropping his gaze. Bruce adds, “All you gotta do is help me find supplies and stand watch while I help whoever I can.” 

“Like you did me,” the guy murmurs. 

“Just like that,” Bruce agrees. 

.

So, they stick together. The guy never gives him a name to use so Bruce decides to keep his mind sharp by choosing a different name alphabetically every morning. The guy answers to all of them. 

Bruce decides he’s either black-ops (well, was) or a hitman deciding to go straight, and whoever he worked for didn’t take too well to that. Possibly a mutant, due to the healing. Or maybe an experimental procedure? Bruce has never been the most talkative guy, but he chatters on at Michael (today) about anything that crosses his mind because Robert (today) seems to like it. Sometimes, he even responds, in the small pauses Bruce leaves just to see if he will. 

The animals that avoid Bruce seem to like Adam (today) because while Bruce is tending to whoever needs it in the various villages, strays of all kinds wander up to Fabio (today) and beg for attention. Donkeys, goats, dogs, cats, whatever. Nick (today) always seems bewildered before he reacts, but he also smiles. And wow, his smile. Betty would call it a heartthrob’s smile. She’d really like Samson (today), Bruce thinks, a lot. The Other Guy agrees. 

.

Bruce and the Other Guy notice that whoever is tracking them has picked up the pace: three attempts (including that first) in five months is – unusual. Even Ross doesn’t try that often. Greg (today) hasn’t explained if they’re after him or Bruce, just picks them off with a sniper rifle or tears his way through whatever the Other Guy has left him. 

The Other Guy likes him. He likes the Other Guy. It’s… bizarre. The first time they met, according to Harry (that day), the Other Guy had shouted **Behind me!** and then ripped a STRIKE team apart. Bruce had asked enough questions to clarify that STRIKE means _Special Tactical Reserve for International Key Emergencies_ , which is mildly terrifying, but he’s pretty sure they must be after him. What could Zach (today) have done to warrant that?

But the Other Guy, according to Harry (that day), had listened to Harry after all of STRIKE were down. Harry had guided them away until the Other Guy retreated so that Bruce could come out. Bruce vaguely remembers being slung over Harry’s shoulder and he woke up the next morning tucked in tight against Harry, with Harry on watch, gun in hand. 

“He should have a name,” Marco (today) says as they sneak into Laos. 

“Who?” Bruce asks, glancing back. 

Marco meets his eyes as he says, “The Other Guy.” 

Bruce just blinks in shock. Even the Other Guy seems surprised. 

“Names are important,” Marco continues, tilting his head just a bit defiantly. 

“Yes, they are,” Bruce agrees. The Other Guy seems… yearning. Holy shit. “What do you think would be a good name?” Bruce asks because he is at a complete loss. Has the Other Guy been wanting a name this whole time?

They walk on silently for a bit. As they’re setting up for the evening, Marco says, “Roger.” Bruce glances up from where he’s unpacking the granola bars (what they’ll have tonight) and Marco repeats, “Roger. Does he like that?” 

The Other Guy is _ecstatic_. It’s all Bruce can do to keep him in, so Bruce just nods. “Yeah,” he finally says. “He likes that.” 

.

He wants to send a postcard to Betty, to tell her that someone else in the world thinks the O-- _Roger_ is a person, too. But he can’t, knows Ross is waiting for some sign. 

But after, Keith (today) begins opening up. 

“I think I was a prisoner,” he says one afternoon. 

“I didn’t want to,” he confesses another day. “But I can’t remember – it just hurt so much, so I did.” 

And, “I think they were lying. I never wanted – I fought, I know I fought.” 

And, “I escaped once, I think. It… it was bad, when they got me back.” 

And, “I think my mother – I had to have had a mother, right, Bruce? I think she called me James.” He looks at Bruce over the very small campfire. “I want to be called James.” 

“Hi, James,” Bruce says. 

.

The fourth time they’re attacked, Bruce doesn’t bother trying to keep Roger from annihilating the enemy. He has, in the past – it always failed, but Bruce doesn’t want to hurt people. He never has. 

Today, he does. Because these people, they want to hurt James. Whether it’s because he’s been traveling with Bruce or because he’s who they’re after, to recapture, to chain down and wipe _James_ away, to get their _asset_ back—James talks in his sleep, now that he’s comfortable enough to sleep in Bruce’s presence. He talks in his sleep and he remembered his name five days ago. 

And Bruce is fucking _pissed_ about it. 

.

Bruce comes to wrapped around James. A dozen bodies are scattered in pieces around them. “Holy shit,” he mutters. 

James laughs, tucking his head into Bruce’s neck. “Roger promised I’d never go back,” he murmurs into Bruce’s skin. 

“I promise that, too,” Bruce says. “We should get a move on.” They should. They rest curled together for another fifteen minutes before James rolls to his feet, pulling Bruce after him.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title: I have been where you are before (and I have felt the pain of losing who you are)  
> Disclaimer: not my characters  
> Warnings: AU before Avengers; references, of course, to violence/abuse/torture; possibly AUish for Bruce and the Hulk’s relationship? I dunno.  
> Pairings: none  
> Rating: PG  
> Wordcount: 1150  
> Point of view: third
> 
> Note: I have snapshots in this 'verse forthcoming. There will probably not be an overarching plot - just ideas I have of little moments.

_Spring 2010_

When Brock wakes up, he’s lying on the ground along with the rest of his team. The last thing he remembers -- _Fuck,_ he thinks, reaching for his radio with a hand that feels not quite broken but also not quite right. “Rollins,” he calls when his radio isn’t where it should be. “Smith? Willis?” No one answers so he carefully rolls over onto his knees, slowly stands up. Everything hurts. 

Rollins is alive, though barely. No one else is. And all of the communication equipment has been gathered in a pile and smashed beyond fixing with the little tools and less knowledge Brock has of tech. That was Davis’ job, but Davis’ head has been twisted all the way around. 

Brock has to leave the men where they are and get Rollins to the extraction point so that he can report what is every team leader’s worst nightmare: the asset’s gone rogue.

(In another world, where the asset runs south instead of north, he is recovered in three days. He is punished, wiped, punished again, and then put into storage until being utilized for the assassination of Director Fury.) 

“What happened, Agent Rumlow?” Secretary Pierce asks, sounding almost gentle. Brock knows it for the trap it is. 

Three of Brock’s ribs are broken. He knows he’s only alive because Smith broke his fall. 

“We were on the way to the extraction point,” Brock reports, hoping this isn’t the fuck-up that gets him killed. “The asset – I think it might be something Tyles said, but I can’t remember what. It triggered one of those fits in the asset and when he came out of it, he just… started tearin’ us apart.” Secretary Pierce’s lips keep smiling his grandfatherly smile; his eyes are not smiling at all. Brock continues, “I don’t know how many of us were able to get shots off; I kept shouting the shut-down codes, and I think one of ‘em almost had him, but then – I don’t know, sir. I woke up and my team was dead.” 

Secretary Pierce sighs. “We deployed recovery teams as soon as you made contact, Agent Rumlow. You and Agent Rollins are on stand-down until Medical clears you.” He orders, “You and Agent Rollins need to determine what triggered this so that we can fix the problem when the asset is recovered.” 

“Yes sir,” Brock says, holding in his sigh of relief. 

(In another world, Brock is allowed to help punish the asset and he takes pleasure in avenging his team upon the faulty weapon’s flesh.

In this world, the only two surviving members of the first recovery team die before making it to the extraction point.)

 

_Spring 2011_

Rory Donavan does not want to make this report, but since she’s the agent in charge of the team tracking down Dr. Banner, she’s shit out of luck. With her team’s encouragement ringing in her ears, she calls it in. She tells Agent Coulson, the liaison between all the outside teams and Director, “I need to speak with Director Fury. The intel is Need to Know.” 

Agent Coulson says, “Well, that’s interesting,” but he puts her through. 

While Rory waits for Director Fury to pick up the line, she counts to ten in the three languages she’s fluent in: English, Gaelic, and Mandarin. And she waits. Finally, Director Fury says, “What could _possibly_ be so interesting about Dr. Banner than you need to tell me directly, Agent?” 

She says, “Well, sir, we, um, we finally have eyes on his travel companion.”

“And that would be?” Director Fury asks, when Rory hesitates.

She really doesn’t want to say the words. She really _really_ doesn’t. “He’s a sniper, sir. He’s got a metal arm. He’s fast and he’s strong, and he makes shots, that, well, I’m pretty sure Hawkeye could, but probably not many others.” 

And Director Fury says, “Are you shitting me, Agent?”

She takes a deep breath. “No, sir. I am 95% certain that Dr. Banner’s travel companion is the operative known as the Winter Soldier.”

Director Fury says, “Fucking hell.” 

.

Rory and her team – Agents Ryel, Connors, and Yancy – have orders to hang back far enough that the Hulk can’t sense them and watch. They aren’t to interact with Dr. Banner or the Hulk at all. But with the Winter Soldier in reach –

“I’m a bit confused,” Tom Ryel says as they watch the Winter Soldier teach a group of kids how to play baseball. 

“Yeah,” Angela Connors says. “Join the club.”

.

Three weeks after reporting in her suspicions, Agent Coulson sends orders that Rory and her team are to guide a retrieval unit to the optimal place to collect the Winter Soldier. Dr. Banner is still to be left alone. 

Three weeks of watching the Winter Soldier and Dr. Banner interact with local civilians, and Rory knows she’s not the only one on her team who has grown to like the guy, legendary assassin or not. He looks confused, sometimes, and other times, like a wary dog that’s been hit too often to trust. Will Yancy had even put his Master’s of Psychology to use and theorized with the team about the Winter Soldier’s mental state. 

Rory doesn’t want SHIELD to take him in. She knows he’ll never see the light of day again. 

But. She has her orders. 

.

While Rory and Tom help the retrieval team settle into their temporary quarters and explain the layout of the local terrain, Rory pointedly doesn’t notice that Will isn’t in his usual spot with his laptop. Angela greets the newcomers with a smile and a quick rundown of the nearby village. Will comes in not long after with a stack of MREs and a sharp grin. 

The retrieval team moves out that night, following Dr. Banner and the Winter Soldier into the countryside. “We should hang back,” Will says. “We can pick up the doc’s trail in a couple days.” 

Rory gives him a long look. “Did you interact with them?” she asks after a moment. 

Will’s grin is still sharp. “No, ma’am, I did not. I just let the Soldier catch sight of me.” 

“Okay,” Rory says. “Hang tight, guys. We’ll see what happens.” 

.

What happens is that when Rory’s team heads out, they meet up with two of the retrieval squad carrying another one. Of the six-man team, they are the only three to return alive. 

According to the report that Agent Harrison gives to Agent Coulson, it was the Hulk – the Winter Soldier wasn’t even in sight. Banner set a trap, Agent Farrell tripped it, and the ensuing gunfire led the Hulk right to them. It was an absolute shitshow. 

After a few minutes conferencing off-camera, Agent Coulson orders Harrison’s team home and for Rory to maintain the long-distance observation. 

For now, Dr. Banner and the Winter Soldier are to be watched but otherwise left alone.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title: I have been where you are before (and I have felt the pain of losing who you are)  
> Disclaimer: not my characters  
> Warnings: AU before Avengers; references, of course, to violence/abuse/torture, and also child abuse; possibly AUish for Bruce and the Hulk’s relationship? I dunno.   
> Pairings: none  
> Rating: PG  
> Wordcount: 200  
> Point of view: third

A month after James names himself, he settles beside Bruce by the small lake near their current camp and says, “I think there’s a tracker in my arm.”

Bruce just watches the water. “That would explain how they keep finding us.” 

.

James is rightfully skittish as he guides Bruce in opening the panels of his arm. It’s had only minimum upkeep since Bruce found him, and James has always done it out of Bruce’s sight (though not Roger’s hearing). 

Roger is growling in the back of Bruce’s mind because the pain on James’ face is badly hidden. If they ever get their hands on whoever did this – he and Roger are in complete agreement with what they’ll do.

Bruce finds what he thinks are three separate trackers and he carefully removes them. He notes the parts of the arm, how they all fit together, and vows to figure it all out because the arm is going to break down at some point, whether James has admitted it to himself or not. Bruce closes the arm up and holds still as James swiftly moves out of reach. “Should I destroy them or plant them on something?” Bruce asks. 

“Destroy them,” James says.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title: I have been where you are before (and I have felt the pain of losing who you are)  
> Disclaimer: not my characters  
> Warnings: AU before Avengers; references, of course, to violence/abuse/torture, and also child abuse; possibly AUish for Bruce and the Hulk’s relationship? I dunno.   
> Pairings:   
> Rating: PG  
> Wordcount: 660  
> Point of view: third  
> Note: it’s going to be a while before James remembers or Bruce figures out who James used to be, so I thought I’d share: my headcanon has Bucky Barnes as the older brother of three sisters named Rebecca, Olivia, and Julia. They were nicknamed Becca, Livy, and Jules. Keep that in mind, yeah?

A young goat follows them out of a village. James grins, watching it; Bruce smiles, watching James. James slows down to let the goat keep up. Bruce already has their endgoal in mind for the evening, so he doesn’t mind taking their time.

James murmurs to the goat in what sounds like Russian, though Bruce isn’t quite sure. Roger feels a little _longing_ \-- he likes animals (far more than Bruce does) but they always keep their distance.

Bruce expects the goat to turn back by the time they reach their camping spot, but its still prancing beside James. James says, “Her name is Livy.”

“Hello, Livy,” Bruce says solemnly. “We’re having dried fish tonight, so I hope you don’t mind.”

James laughs. While Bruce pulls out the dinner supplies, James patrols the perimeter. As far as Bruce can determine, Roger and either the experimentation or James’ natural mutation make their senses about equal. James, though, has a far better understanding of the stimuli than Bruce, and can also move so silently it’s frightening.

Livy the goat stares at Bruce. He ignores her, setting out enough fish for both him and James.

“Bruce,” James says from behind him. Thankfully, Roger had heard him so Bruce doesn’t startle.

“All clear?” he asks.

James nods. The sun has almost completely set. Bruce holds out James’ share while Livy the goat bleats for attention. “Eat leaves or grass,” Bruce tells her, feeling only a little ridiculous. James chuckles. 

Livy the goat spends the evening moving ever closer to Bruce. Bruce continues to ignore her, telling James about _The Empire Strikes Back_. For the past two weeks, he’s covered the prequels and _A New Hope_ , so the epic spoiler has already been thoroughly spoiled. James seems to like the story, anyway. His favorite characters are R2 and Threepio. 

Finally, Livy the goat noses at Bruce’s knee. “She wants to meet Roger,” James says and Bruce just stares at him. 

"I'm sorry?" Bruce says after a moment.

James nods. "Roger likes animals, he told me so. And Livy knows there's more to you." He shrugs. 

Roger is practically bouncing in the back of Bruce's mind, and Livy the goat is trying to climb into his lap. It's... bizarre to say the least. "So you're suggesting I let Roger out just to meet a goat?" he asks incredulously. 

The look James gives him is - he's not sure. Somewhere between disapproving and disappointed, maybe. "Of course," James says, as though it's obvious. "He's a person, too, isn't he? That's his body as much as it is yours." 

James has only ever sounded this sure when they discussed possible battle strategies. He defers to Bruce during interactions with civilians and tries to avoid interactions in general as often as he can. And he doesn't know the story of how Roger came to share Bruce's body - it's entirely likely, in fact, that James thinks Roger has always been there. He doesn't know that Roger's existence is an accident, and one that Bruce has spent years hating himself _and_ Roger for. 

But looking James in the eye as Livy the goat stretches herself across Bruce's lap, Bruce realizes that isn't fair. None of this has been Roger's fault. He's actually the only innocent in the entire situation, isn't he? Fuck. 

So he closes his eyes and reaches toward Roger, letting go. 

.

When it's Bruce's turn again, he wakes up to see Livy the goat resting next to James, her head on his thigh. "I'd like to keep her," James says softly, glancing over at Bruce as he stretches. "She and Roger adored each other." 

Bruce chuckles, shaking his head. "Wish I could'a seen it." 

"At dawn, I'm taking her back to the village," James says. 

"Alright." Bruce rises to his feet, stepping into the brush to relieve himself. When he returns to camp, James is gently running his fingers along Livy the goat's neck, humming what sounds like a lullaby.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title: I have been where you are before (and I have felt the pain of losing who you are)  
> Disclaimer: not my characters  
> Warnings: AU before Avengers; references, of course, to violence/abuse/torture, and also child abuse; possibly AUish for Bruce and the Hulk’s relationship? I dunno.   
> Pairings: past Betty/Bruce, possibly pre-Bruce/ex-Winter Soldier  
> Rating: PG  
> Wordcount: 470  
> Point of view: third

“We’ve picked up followers,” James tells Bruce one morning. 

“They dangerous?” Bruce asks, glancing around. Whoever it is, they haven’t tripped Roger’s senses, so they’re hanging pretty far back. 

“I think they’re just watching,” James says. 

But after that, for weeks, he wears his hood up, hunches his shoulders, tries to appear _less_. Like he’s hiding from these watchers, whoever they are, and Bruce has to double his meditation because seeing James backslide makes him so angry.

Eventually, though, James seems to decide he’s done hiding, and he begins interacting with the children in the various villages and towns they pass through, usually distracting them while Bruce does what he can for the sick and injured. It’s not enough penance, Bruce knows, but it’s what he can do, and the great weight on his shoulders eases slightly with every person he helps.

And then comes the day when James enters the sickhouse and every instinct Bruce has screams at him that something’s wrong. “We need to go,” James says quietly and all of Roger’s attention is on him. 

“What happened?” Bruce asks, just as quietly, slowly rising to his feet beside the old woman who will be dead within the week, no matter what Bruce does for her. 

“One of the watchers allowed me to see him,” James says. 

In the six months they’ve been followed, they’ve never seen or heard whoever was doing the following. “Shit,” Bruce says. 

.

James doesn’t want to leave him behind, but Bruce says, “I’ve got a plan, okay. Whoever they are, they can’t really do a thing to me because of Roger, but you, James?” He hates to say it as much as James hates to hear it, but James’ nightmares – 

“Go to the next campsite and wait,” Bruce orders. “Let me and Roger handle this, okay?” 

He knows for a fact that James does _not_ go to the next campsite, but James at least gets out of sight. With his vision and that enormous sniper rifle, he could be anywhere, watching. It helps Bruce keep calm, just a bit. 

So he sets the trap, and he waits. 

.

When the men with guns (dressed like the STRIKE teams from months ago) trip the trap, Bruce almost cheerfully lets Roger out. 

Three of them survive. Three of them don’t. Bruce only knows because, apparently, when Roger catches up to James (or James comes back to Roger? it’s unclear), Roger tells him so. 

.

When the watchers return, James tells Bruce. “Should I kill them?” James asks. 

Bruce glances around but the forest is silent. Roger hears the village in the distance, the animals hanging back, but not whoever is watching them. “No,” Bruce decides. “Whatever they want, they warned us the STRIKE team was coming. We’ll let them live.” 

_For now,_ Roger adds, and Bruce doesn’t disagree.


End file.
